The Last Generation
by PatientNumberZero
Summary: After heaven gets shut down, Dean, Sam and Castiel are faced with new problems. Trying to survive the aftermath of the trials and dealing with angels and demons is bad enough, but they will need more help if they want to establish the old order again. An old prophecy and a group of children may hold the answer. AU after the season 8 final "Sacrifice".
1. Chapter 1

AN: So, this is the beginning of a multi-chapter AU after season 8, my first bigger writing "project" and I hope you guys like it. I still don't have a real beta-reader but I usually let a friend or two read it first before I submit anything, so it shouldn't be too bad. Just tell me if you find any mistakes. I'd really appreciate reviews, of course. :)  
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural nor the song "I see fire" by Ed Sheeran, all rights to their respective owners. 

* * *

And if the night is burning  
I will cover my eyes  
For if the dark returns then  
My brothers will die  
And as the sky's falling down  
It crashed into this lonely town  
And with that shadow upon the ground  
I hear my people screaming out  
Now I see fire

* * *

I was falling, and it hurt.  
Around me was only darkness, threatening me, swallowing me and not letting go. My body seemed to hurn and the force pulling me further and further down wouldn't relent.  
I wanted to scream, against the pain and the darkness, opened my mouth but couldn't hear anything. My orientation was lost, I couldn't tell left from right or up from down, but the falling sensation was still there, tugging at my wings, ripping them apart.  
I just wanted it to end, wanted to open my eyes again and be back in heaven with my brothers and sisters. But it wasn't happening and I asked myself, _is this the end_?  
_Where are you, father?  
_I was scared, terrified, lost. Why wouldn't it stop?  
But suddenly, it did. I heard the collision of my body with the solid ground before I could feel it. It was the sound of bones cracking and grass catching on fire.  
Before anymore pain could register, grind it's way into my mind, I was embraced by darkness.

* * *

Castiel watched them with horror. They were falling and he could do nothing to help them. So he just stood there, still shocked at what he had done.  
He was to blame for this. It was his fault that they were all banned from heaven now, that they couldn't return.  
He looked up at the sky again, an empty feeling in his stomach that was slowly filled with guilt and misery. He had just wanted to help but... as War had said once: Good intentions, they were the fastest way to hell. He should have known, shouldn't have trusted Metatron.  
Should have, shouldn't have, what good would this do now? He needed to find a way to undo this mess he had made.  
He needed to get back to Dean and Sam.  
Taking his eyes away from his falling siblings, he looked ahead, trying to figure out where he was and where to go from there.  
He was at a lake, surrounded by forest. It was dark, but he couldn't tell if it was close to dawn or if the night had just started. Deciding that he didn't have a choice but to go through the woods in search of a road or any civilization, he made his way through the dark trees.  
Soon he was stumbling over every root and leave, not making much progress. Nor could he tell if the direction he was going into was the right one or if he was just moving in circles. Every tree looked the same, every stone like the last one he had passed. It was tiring, he wasn't used to this.  
After what seemed like hours to him, of stumbling around and loosing himself in the darkness and loneliness, he finally made it out of the forest. Now he was surrounded by fields, but he could see the lights of a Highway, probably about a mile from where he stood. Falling down on his knees, he tried to catch his breath. Humans were slow, and needy for air and nutrition and all the things he had never quite understood. There was a pressure in his lower regions, something uncomfortable and his stomach was growling fiercely. He wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere and close his eyes. But he needed to get back, needed Dean and Sam and the protection of the bunker.  
He stood up again, determined to reach them before passing out. Above him, the angels were still falling, looking like shooting stars to a human eye. One of the falling ones seemed to be closer than the ones he could just barely make out in the distance. It was a glowing fireball, coming directly towards him. The nearer it got, the clearer he could hear the screaming, full of agony and fear.  
The poor soul crashed only a few feet away from him, silent now.  
Castiel waited. A rustling sound, a head peaking up from the tall grass, anything. But the figure didn't move, made no attempt to get up or even raise a limb.  
Worried now, the once so powerful angel ran to his sibling's side. He could feel something else new to him when he looked upon the crashed angel.  
Tears. They were pooling in his eyes and slowly making their way down his face, tickling his skin. He identified the new feeling as sadness, because humans cried when they were sad, right? But it felt so much more powerful, he just couldn't find a word for it. Grief, maybe?  
Grief for the young boy laying before him, not a man yet but not a child anymore. His human body probably about 15 years old, he looked much younger now.  
His hair was a light brown, almost blonde and a bit on the longer side. But it was scorched in some places, just as his clothes. His skin, once maybe pale and beautiful, was darkened by grime.  
His eyes were closed. Apparently, he had lost consciousness. For the first time, Castiel noticed that the grass around the boy looked burned as well, as if someone had been playing with fire.  
_I was the one who played with fire, _he thought bitterly, _and others have to pay for it. _But maybe he could at least help this one.  
He shrugged out of his trench coat and wrapped it around the boy, hoping to keep him warm and make it easier to carry him.  
Dean and Sam, they would know what to do. Hopefully.

* * *

They had both made it back to the bunker, more or less safe. The way from the church back to their home had been long, at least it had felt like it. Dean remembered Sam in the backseat, losing consciousness a few times and, if he was coherent enough, blubbering on about the angels.  
_We have to help them, Dean. I'm sure Cas is out there...  
_Dean had tried to keep him calm and reassure him. Of course Cas was out there, but there was nothing they could do at the moment, right? They had enough problems of their own.  
He had decided against hauling his brother to the next hospital, sure that he could deal with the wounds on his own.  
Now, Sam was tucked on one of the couches in the living room. He was breathing heavily and was still far from over the hill, but at least he was asleep and not in any visible pain.  
Not surprisingly, considering the amount of drugs Dean had given him.  
The wounds on the outside had been easy enough to deal with, but the problems seemed to be inside of him.  
Now and then he could still see something glowing, which scared him like nothing else. But as long as Sam was stable, he wouldn't complain.  
He sat at the world map table, keeping watch over his brother and waiting for... well, something.  
Kevin had helped him patching Sam up but had then left. Knowing that he was still pissed off, but probably more insecure and afraid than anything else, Dean hadn't done anything to stop him from locking himself up in his room. He knew how it was to need some space, some time away from all the shit which they called their life. Even if that just meant getting one night of hopefully undisturbed rest.  
Though the chances that the boy wasn't sleeping but laying awake in his room, thinking about the whole new fiasco they now had on their hands, where much bigger.  
Dean took out his phone from his pocket and started to fiddle around with it. Maybe he knew what he was waiting for.  
Some news on Cas.  
He had tried calling the angel, had send countless messages, but so far, nothing had come back. Was he hurt? Was he to blame for the falling angels? What happened with him and Metatron and was he even still alive?  
Dean prayed that he was, even though he had a feeling that this wouldn't do him any good.


	2. Chapter 2

2. Chapter

Castiel had reached the highway but had been unable to stop a car. So now he was just walking along the road, careful to stay close enough to not lose it but far enough away to avoid being hit.  
He felt awful and close to collapsing. His legs felt like they were filled with lead, his head hurt, he was thirsty and hungry... it was horrible.  
But he couldn't stop, he had to help make this right again. More than anything, he needed to get help for his brother. A hospital, maybe, or just a place to sleep.  
He had long lost any sense of time, but finally he could see a town ahead of them. Walking a bit faster now, the small hope of safety giving him new strength, he soon passed the first buildings.  
Most of them were little farms. The lights were out in the windows and it didn't look like anyone would open them. Castiel felt awfully reminded of Mary and Joseph, trying to find a place to sleep in Nazareth. He would be happy for anything right now, even if it was nothing more than a barn. What he could really use was an angel coming for them, an angel who still had all of his powers and was conscious.  
In the famous Christmas night, it had been Gabriel. Unfortunately, the chances of his brother coming back right now were non existent.  
By now he was walking through the streets of the town, searching for a house where the lights were still on or which, at least, looked friendly.  
At the next corner, they actually got lucky. It was a nice looking one-story home, with a little garden and illuminated kitchen.  
Close to falling to his knees and thanking whoever he could for this, Castiel walked up to the door and knocked.  
The boy in his arms hadn't moved once and the only sign that he was still alive was his breathing, his chest falling and rising a bit irregularly and little puffs of air coming from his lips.  
It didn't take long for the door in front of him to open.  
"Oh my, what happened to you?!" A young woman stood in front of him, her blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail and dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. She had a shocked and sympathetic look on her face, obviously she hadn't expected a stranger with a teenager in his arms, both looking as if they had just survived a car crash.  
Castiel wasn't prepared for the question, nor did he seem to get his vocal chords to function. Finally, he hoarsely rasped out: "We... we need help. There – was a robbery"  
That sounded okay, not too weird, something that could actually happen, right?  
The woman nodded, opening the door to let them in.  
"Of course, come in.", she said and lead them to the living room. Castiel laid the boy down on the couch. "Is he okay? Do you need me to call the police? Or an ambulance?"  
He shook his head: "No, but... could I have some water? And maybe something to tend to his wounds?"  
Again, the woman nodded. She hurried of to another room while Castiel started to free the boy (he really didn't like calling him that) from his coat and the linen clothes he wore. He needed to check for injuries but he also wanted to spare him as much dignity as possible.  
The medieval looking shirt peeled of his skin easily, exposing more pale skin. He had a few bruises, superficial scratches and some minor burns, but nothing that looked too bad.  
Some careful probing revealed a couple of broken rips, an arm which was probably dislocated and broken as well as a sprained ankle, which had swollen badly.  
Only when he wanted to turn the youth around to get a look at the joints where his wings should have been, he noticed the blood stain on the couch. Had there been blood on his coat as well? He couldn't remember, had probably been too distracted by something else. As gently as possible he turned him around, looking with horror at the raw, sluggishly bleeding, singed flesh under his shoulder blades. It looked like his wings had been ripped out and burned.  
It looked bad, like it would hurt a lot and could easily get infected. Also, those would be hard to explain to anyone.  
The woman came back, carrying a tablet with some food and water as well as a small first-aid-kit. She sat the things down on the coffee table.  
"Are you sure you don't want to get him to a hospital? Is – is he your son?", she asked hesitantly.  
"Yes," he answered gravely, "and thank you for the offer but I think all we need is some rest."  
She nodded, then stuttered: "You are, of course, I mean, I have no problem with you two staying here over night... maybe you could go to the police station tomorrow? I mean, if that was a robbery, I guess you're both lucky that you came out alive..."  
"I would gladly stay for the night, thank you. You are very generous.", he answered. Never would he expected her to make this kind of offer, most humans probably wouldn't trust a stranger like that. Maybe it was the kid. Children seemed to make most people more sympathetic.

About two hours later, the woman – Sarah, as he now knew – had gone to bed. They had been transferred to the guest room, the boy resting on the bed and Castiel laying on a cot she had found in the basement. He lay in the dark, listening to the boy's breathing which had become more steady again.  
The more superficial wounds and injuries had been treated as good as possible and he had done his best to hide the worse ones from Sarah.  
He had also wanted to call Dean but his phone was dead and he couldn't for the life of him remember anyone's number. He had never bothered to learn them, always trusting the little device to have them ready for him. Now he knew why humans said that technology wasn't reliable. It sucked.  
_So what now?_, he asked himself. He needed to get away from here, get the kid to wake up, get back to the bunker and most importantly, try to get into contact with Dean and Sam.  
Maybe he could key a car? That shouldn't be too hard. He had seen Sam and Dean drive often enough, he was sure that he could do it as well.  
Next problem. Where could he steal a car without being noticed? Easiest option would probably be Sarah's car, but that seemed wrong.  
Also, he wasn't sure if driving with the injured boy wouldn't do more harm than good. But he had to risk it, right? He couldn't stay here, that much was sure.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
The next morning Dean woke up, he lay draped over one of the library tables. Apparently, he hadn't made it to bed yesterday.  
He got up, stretched his aching limbs and tried to work the kinks out of his neck by rolling his head and shoulders a few times. When he felt like he could move without toppling over he made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by Kevin and a plate with eggs and bacon.  
The kid (_stop that, he's over 18_) looked up when he entered and mumbled a good morning. Nodding to the plate, he said: "Thought you might be hungry. Sam's still sleeping and I doubt that he'll wake up soon."  
Dean nodded his understanding and sat down, thanking him for making breakfast.  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dean eating and Kevin seemingly checking something on his laptop. Somewhere behind him, Dean noticed a clock ticking away quietly and the sound of water leaking from the tap.  
When the silence finally became too uncomfortable for him, he spoke up.  
"So, heard anything from Cas? Or about the angles?", he felt like he should say something else, but maybe it was easier to keep it business for now.  
"Nothing so far. I tried to reach him, but his phone is either out of power or turned off. I couldn't get in touch with any other hunter either."  
Since they had arrived at the bunker yesterday and the frantic questions of what had happened, this had to be the most Dean heard form Kevin yet.  
But after everything the young man had gone through, Dean didn't blame him for not talking much. It was just another thing to worry about, beside the apparent weight loss, the constantly red eyes and the tiredness which seemed to have claimed him.  
But instead of giving him an option to talk about it or giving him some answers, Dean once again decided that their priorities where on their case at the moment.  
Done with his breakfast, he pushed the plate back and stood up again. "I'll check up on Sam, you tell me if you need anything."  
Without waiting for an answer, he was gone again, leaving Kevin to his own thoughts.

Sam was still on the couch, breathing evenly but not looking anywhere near healthy. It was hard to say how long he'd stay unresponsive but Dean guessed that it would take a while, considering what the trials had done to him even before what went down in the church.  
Worried, he thought back to their last conversation where Sam had been coherent and not babbling complete gibberish.  
How he still blamed himself and though of himself as tainted, about the hope of the trials purifying him and about every time he had felt like he let Dean down.  
If he had noticed sooner, maybe he could have prevented this. And he should have noticed it, it was his job. So what if he and Sam had not been on good terms a few times? It had gotten better, right? And true to what he had told his brother, there was nothing he'd put in front of him. Because without Sam, he wasn't able to function either, not properly.  
Crowley may call it co – dependent, but what did he know anyway?  
Dean sighed and sat down next to his brother.  
"Now what, huh? Come on, you're the brain of this, Sam. Any smart ideas?", of course, Sam didn't answer. How could he? And Dean didn't know if this was actually making him feel better or worse, but at least it made him feel something. And for that, he was grateful.

* * *

He'd been on the road for a few hours now and he noticed that he got tired again. His brother had yet to wake up and Castiel got more worried by the second.  
The scenery hadn't changed a lot, still mostly consisting of fields, some trees here and there and every few miles a little town. Or rather village, nothing more than a few houses, two or three farms, a town's hall, a church and maybe even a school.  
Some of them didn't even have a real grocery shop or a gas station.  
Luckily, he did not have to worry about gas too much. The car he had taken was from one of Sarah's neighbors. It was a newer model, probably a company car, and thankfully fuel-saving. Since the family had been in the possession of two cars, both looking very expensive, Castiel hadn't felt too bad about taking one of them. He'd make sure it was found and returned to it's rightful owners anyway. At least the car was comfortable and driving wasn't as hard as he thought, even though it was indeed very tiring. All in all, their little road trip could have been a lot worse.  
Before leaving her house, Castiel had left a letter for Sarah. He had apologized for leaving like this, stealing the neighbors car and taking money from her wallet. Just like the car, he was also planning on paying her back for the favor he had received. Her address was tucked in his jacket pocket and, hopefully sooner rather than later, he would send another letter, with money this time.

* * *

Half an hour had passed, probably enough time so that he couldn't pretend to just be 'checking up' on his brother anymore, so Dean made his way back to the kitchen. He dialed Cas' number, but as Kevin had already told him, it was useless.  
Before he reached his destination though, he heard the younger man yell for him. Breaking into a run, he reached him still sitting in front of his laptop.  
"What the hell, Kevin? What happened?", he asked, slightly irritated, thinking something had come into the bunker without anyone noticing. Kevin just turned around in his chair and, with the remote, turned on the little TV they had set up here a few weeks earlier.  
"We have a problem, just see for yourself." Kevin stated, calm and collected this time. He zapped to a news station, where a small, brunette news anchor was talking about a small town in Utah.

"_Apparently, the first calls about this phenomenon came from Eureka, Utah. Worried citizens there were the first to report the meteor showers which surprised us last night. Right now we have one of our reporters there. What can you tell us about the situation, Robert?_"

Alright, that wasn't too bad, at least in Dean's opinion. Meteor showers could happen. But still, a feeling of dread settled over him. If the people had noticed the falling angles, what else had they noticed?  
He felt Kevin's stare on him. "It gets worse, you'll see", was all he said. So Dean looked back to the screen.  
By now, they had managed to get a live conference with _Robert_.  
Apparently, Robert was as clueless as everyone else. He made an interview with an older lady and really made a point of stressing how _worried _everyone was.  
Dean glanced over at Kevin, who looked almost as annoyed as he felt. So this wasn't what the prophet had wanted to show him.  
Finally, the screen went back to the news anchor. She briefly sorted her papers.

"_As horrible as it seems for one town, the meteor showers were also sighted in other areas. They have certainly shocked all of America and, as we have heard this morning, though it is not officially verified yet, some people claim that they showed up all over the world. Until now, we have verified sightings in Berlin, Paris, Copenhagen, Beijing and about 300 other cities._"

Under the screen, a band with different city names started up. And by now, Dean got worried. The angels had fallen everywhere, over the whole earth. There was no way to tell how much chaos this would cause and what horrible consequences it could have. He could only imagine how they felt.  
All on their own suddenly, no one to think for them anymore and probably one person to blame for that. Cas.  
They would be easy to manipulate as well, they'd have to tread carefully with them. Because he was sure that they would cause problems in some way.  
He focused back on the news program.

"_Another report has reached our studio this morning. A lot of citizens reported confused and injured people, wandering the streets or being found unconscious. Apparently, none of them have been identified as missing yet and the police is handling their care for now along with social services. Some have been reported as violent, so if you see someone, please do not approach them alone. Call your local Sheriff or police station or dial 911.  
By now, no one seems to know where those people came from. Please do not believe any theories you hear yet, none of them are verified._"

He had been so engrossed in the show that he was startled when Kevin suddenly turned off the TV. In a somber tone, the younger man spoke up: "I don't know about you but I really wonder where they got their vessels so fast. Anyway, we really got a problem now. We'll never be able to find all of them.  
Dean just nodded, still trying to come to terms with the giant proportions their newest disaster had just taken. 

* * *

AN: Soo... this chapter kinda gave me a headache but now it's out! I hope you enjoy it and even if you don't, please leave a review. THey'll motivate me for the next chapter! Alos, happy belated easter to everyone! ^^


End file.
